


Smoking In The Cold

by thephilosophah



Series: old fics i never got around to posting [4]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Drabble, M/M, Smoking, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-09
Updated: 2018-01-09
Packaged: 2019-03-02 21:16:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13326513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thephilosophah/pseuds/thephilosophah
Summary: greed steps out for a smoke. ling is fucking tired of getting woken up by cold coming in from the window.





	Smoking In The Cold

Greed brings the filter to his lips and takes a nice, long, drag. He goes to rest his other hand on the railing of the balcony, but it turns out to be freezing, so he pulls carbon all the way up to his elbow and puts his weight on his forearm as he leans over the edge.

Something bumps against the frame of the glass door. Judging by the height the sound came from, it’s probably a head.

“Have you ever been sick?”

Greed doesn’t want to breathe out just yet. He buys a few seconds by turning to glance over his shoulder. Sure enough, Ling is supporting his weight against the doorframe.

“Not really, no.” There goes Greed’s smoke.

“You mean you’ve been... not really sick?”

“Eh, it’s not quite the same, but uh...” he takes another drag. “...Yeah, when my stone got low, I felt like I could barely move, even though I was still better off than most people will ever be.” Inhale. “You guys get that, right? Soreness and, like, a general lack of energy?”

“Sure.”

Greed makes a note of the blanket Ling has around his shoulders before turning back around to save his neck.

“Do you really have to smoke?”

Greed counts to ten while he takes his drag, counts another ten, and then counts yet another ten in an exhale. “Meh.”

Ling’s torso finds its way to Greed’s back. The blanket comes around the railing.

“Come in, it’s cold.”

“I’m not gonna stay out here forever, kid. Imma come back in.”

“Nooo, now.”

“Whiny brat.” Greed lifts his cigarette and gets it snatched out of his fingers. “Give.”

“No. Come in.”

“Ling, I swear, if you put it out I’m gonna light another one and marvel in your tears while I smoke it.”

Greed turns around, grabbing for the cigarette that Ling holds above his head, as if he’s taller than Greed. He snatches it out of Ling’s hand and holds it behind him, over the railing, where there aren’t any flammable blankets.

Ling’s frown is way too deep for his face.

“What.”

“You smell like shit.”

“I probably taste like shit too”, Greed says, taking a drag and blowing the smoke to the sky, away from Ling.

Ling grabs the cigarette again, holds it between the two of them. He takes a drag.

Greed’s eyes widen. Ling coughs in his chest.

“Wow, okay, never do that again. Holy shit. Are you alright there? Can you breathe?” Greed takes his cigarette back to save the blanket and Ling’s hair and any shirt that’s in imminent danger of Ling’s weakening grip on reality as he tries to vomit his own lungs, apparently. Ling holds a hand up.

He wheezes, coughs, wheezes, breathes. Greed takes another drag, again blowing it away.

“What’d you do that for?”

“I was wondering what the fuck could make you stand this cold.”

Greed gives an unimpressed look. “Really.”

“No”, Ling admits, breaking into wheezing again. “I just kinda thought you’d like the image.”

“Yeah, it was pretty hot” – especially the way Ling locked his eyes on him as he covered his mouth with the fingers that held the cigarette – “but don’t do that, seriously. You actually get harmed by this shit. Don’t follow my example, kids.”

Ling laughs, which causes another coughing fit.

“Seriously, go back inside. I’ll be right over when I’m done with this.”

“Come with me!”

“Why though? We’re talking three minutes tops here. Chill.”

“No, come inside.”

Greed all but swallows his cigarette in an attempt to smoke it as fast as humanly possible. Oh wait, he’s not human. In another half-swallow he burns down to the filter.

“Right up”, he says to the sky, because fuck if he’s gonna talk smoke in Ling’s face and fuck if he’s gonna blow it all away.

Ling drags him by the wrist, which does little to move either of them.

After the butt of the cigarette’s been safely crushed under Greed’s foot, he lets himself be pulled inside and slides the door closed behind him.

Ling shivers. “God! That’s cold, fuck.”

“If you were so cold why did you even come out?”

“To drag you in, I thought I made myself clear.” Ling dives into the bed and nestles himself under the blankets there. “I couldn’t close the door while you were out.”

“Aw, how sweet. Though, you could do that. If I knocked on the glass without getting an answer I’d just pick the lock.”

“Then you’d break it. I’d have to get up again to stop you.”

Greed laughs. “Getting up once was bother enough huh.”

“More like torture enough! Only compared to some asshole opening a window while you’re sleeping.”

 


End file.
